


Corpse Bridegroom

by VastDelusion



Series: Spooktober [2]
Category: Corpse Bride (2005), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Afterlife, Also not quite sure if that applies, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Corpse Bride (2005) Fusion, Annabeth Chase is Victoria Everglot, Corpses, Endgame Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson, England (Country), F/M, Halloween, I'm not sure if that technically qualifies, Infidelity, Luke Castellan is Lord Barkus Bittern, M/M, Marriage, Necrophilia, Nico di Angelo is Dead, Nico di Angelo is Emily, Percy Jackson is Victor Van Dort, Piano Duets, Some sex references but nothing happens, Spooktober, Weddings, death by strangulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDelusion/pseuds/VastDelusion
Summary: Perseus Jackson is caught in an arranged marriage to secure his family's flourishing fishing business. He is apprehensive about the arrangement, but he tries his best to respect his family's wishes. That is, until he messes up the whole rehearsal and makes a fool of himself. Curse his poor memory.While wandering in the woods, he finally gets his vows right...and accidentally marries the corpse of a seventeen-year-old boy who was buried in an unmarked grave beneath his feet.He is plunged into a strange world that exists below the surface, suddenly married to the corpse and far away from everything he ever knew. However, he soon learns that the land of the dead is much livelier than the one up above, and the corpse he married is actually not too bad, either...
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan/Nico di Angelo (past), Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson
Series: Spooktober [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920424
Comments: 36
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Spooktober series! If you'd like to request a pairing/prompt, comment down below and I'll try to get to it in a timely fashion. Thanks for reading!! 👻👻
> 
> This is my favorite movie of all time, so it is natural I'd insert my OTP in it.

The sky was gloomy and grey, clouds clustered so thick that most of people in the town of Charvelay had forgotten there was a sun behind them. The smell of rain clung heavily to the air, a pleasant smell that lingered in Charvelay more often than not. 

Nonetheless, it was a somber day for a wedding rehearsal. 

Percy remained in his room, his suit too tight around his shoulders--he was afraid it would rip if he moved too much--and the anticipating silence too much for him to bear. Any time now, the carriage would roll up the cobblestone streets that laid before his house. 

His mother and father had gotten rich off their self-made fish merchant business, a lucrative career, indeed. Wherever he went, he saw his father's visage plastered on the walls, on products, on windows. If he wasn't his father, he would be tired of seeing it. Percy would inherit the company one day, but, first, he needed to get married. 

Well, his parents needed him to get married. Heirs were important, his father told him. He knew it was true, but for so long it seemed like a distant fantasy that would never apply to him.

His large, circular window was open a smidge to let the stuffy air out and the fresh air in, despite its chilliness. He heard the faint, heavy ticks of the clock downtown as his gaze followed a blue butterfly fluttering around his room, investigating its new surroundings, before flying back out the window. He watched it go as the carriage came to a stop on the street down below. Percy sighed, checking his hair and suit in the mirror to see if his mother would approve of his appearance. 

"Percy! We need to go, before we're late," his mother called from downstairs. 

She was a lovely mother, but he considered hiding in his wardrobe so he didn't have to forego the events that lied ahead. He trudged along, anyway, sparing a glance at an old portrait that hung on the wall. His childhood dog, Mrs. O'Leary, was long since dead, to his despondence, but she was forever immortalized, along with himself as a child, wearing the most embarrassing outfit, which his mother called darling. 

"Percy!" She called again, reminding him of the urgency.

He obeyed, quickly descending the stairs to the carriage. 

He hopped in and closed the door behind him, facing the smiling faces of his parents.

"Oh, Percy, you look so handsome," his mother cooed, reaching over to adjust his tie. 

"Are you nervous, boy?" his father asked, taking a puff of his pipe, which earned a prompt scolding from his mother. 

"A little," he lied. 

"Don't worry," he said. "I was terrified when I married your mother, and we worked out just fine." 

His mother smiled reassuringly, and, although his stomach felt like lead, he felt a little calmer. 

"But, shouldn't Annabeth Chase be marrying a... lord, or something?"

"Oh, you know those 'Lord' and 'Lady' titles are dying breeds. The only things they have to show for it is stuffy, old mansions and their noses in the air," his mother said. 

He smiled slightly. She wouldn't say those things in front of them, of course, but Percy was sure she was no less thrilled to be related to Lord and Lady Chase by marriage than he was. 

His father smiled, but didn't say a word. 

At last, their carriage pulled to a stop at a tall, skinny mansion right off the street. It had large, ornate "C"s on the doors, and Percy wasn't fond of the pretentious display. 

They stepped out onto the pavement and Percy's stomach sunk down to his shoes. He was going to get married tomorrow to a woman he'd never spoken to. What if she was a pretentious, arrogant woman with no sense of humor, or everything that came out of her mouth was a complaint? He wouldn't be able to deal with that. He closed his eyes and prayed that she was a lovely young woman. He tried to imagine what she looked like, but all that came up in his mind was the image of her dreary parents. 

He hoped she was kind, thoughtful, easy to talk to. He hoped she was nothing like her parents. 

His father pulled the rope by the door to apprise them that they had arrived while his mother brushed his hair back and straightened his tie. 

"Stand up straight, my dear," she told him, and the door swung open. A butler stood in the doorway, looking upon them before stepping aside to grant entrance.

Percy followed his parents through the door, his hands shaking. He hoped that he was hiding his nervousness well, but with the way the butler was scornfully gazing at him, he was hopeless. 

Athena Chase was as morose as ever, her lips fastened in an ever-present scowl, her graying blond hair tied in a bun so tight he wondered if her scalp had any feeling in it anymore. 

Her father was a short man, balding with glasses perched at the end of his wonky nose. He seemed nice enough when he was by himself, but Athena filled the air with her grumpiness so thoroughly that it rubbed off on him, too. 

"Lord and Lady Chase," the butler introduced. "Mr. and Mrs. Jackson."

The contempt leaking off his tongue was enough for Percy to glue his gaze to the floor. 

"It is lovely to meet again, Lady Chase," Mrs. Jackson said politely, and Percy wished he had inherited her bravado. 

"We'll be taking tea in the west drawing room," Lady Chase said abruptly, as if Sally had said nothing at all. She held her tongue, of course.

Percy followed his parents and his soon to be parents-in-law before his eyes caught a large, grand piano, sitting in the middle of the parlor. 

A smile crossed his face. He hadn't practiced for a while, but he still loved to play. He listened for the door to close behind the adults before plopping down on the bench and gingerly taking off the cover, exposing the long line of elegant keys. 

He ran his hand down the expanse, listening to how it played. It was well in tune, he discerned, and he positioned his fingers. He began to play something he had come up with when he was younger, muscle memory taking control of his judgement. 

He closed his eyes and allowed the notes to take him away, far away, where he wouldn't have to get married to someone he didn't know at all and continue with his freedom. How easily it slipped from him. 

He opened his eyes and watched his fingers dance across the keys. He saw the skirt of a dress at his side, and, startled, he shot up from the bench. A vase of flowers toppled, and he quickly caught it with an uneven breath, grateful that catastrophe hadn't (yet) struck. 

"Do forgive me, I was merely--"

"You play wonderfully," said the woman in a mellifluous voice. 

Golden ringlets fell at the sides of her face, the rest tied up in a bun, quite alike her mother's, but it suited her well. She didn't possess her mother's gaunt features, or her father's wonky nose. In fact, she seemed to be blessed with just the right visage: her mother's grey eyes, although not as piercing; a delicate nose; full, pink lips; clear, unmarred skin; high cheekbones; a kind nature. He wondered if she was the one he was to be married to. She seemed just too good to be true. 

"Th-Thank you, Miss Chase," he said, his nervousness showing in his tentative tone. "Excuse me, but where is your... your chaperone?" 

"Do I need one?" she asked, playfulness sparkling in her eyes. 

"I--" Not knowing how to respond, he cleared his throat. "I suppose not, Miss Chase." 

She smiled. "Perhaps, in view of the circumstances, you could call me Annabeth." 

"O-of course...Annabeth." 

"Yes, Percy?"

He smiled slightly. "Tomorrow we are to be...married." 

She settled down on the bench and caressed the keys longingly. "You know, ever since I was a child, I've dreamt of my wedding day." 

"You have?" Percy couldn't say the same. 

"What little girl hasn't, I suppose. But, I always wanted to marry someone I was deeply in love with. Someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with," she mused. She emitted a slight laugh. "Silly, isn't it?"

"Ye-- No, no, of course not," he replied, sitting down beside her. "It's not silly at all, actually." 

He leaned his elbow on the piano, clumsily toppling over the vase once again, this time falling on the piano with a loud clank! It didn't break, fortunately, and Annabeth didn't get angry. Instead she reached into the slight puddle that formed and grabbed the stem of a small flower. She gently tucked it into his lapel, her deep, stormy eyes lost in his. 

"What in heavens is this?" Lady Chase's harsh voice shattered the air. "You two aren't supposed to be _alone_ together!" She shook her head, contempt visible in her sharp features. "It is one minute before five, and you are not at the rehearsal! Come at once!" 

The two shared a pensive gaze before following the crone of a woman, and the rest of the adults, outside. They boarded separate carriages, unable to tear their eyes off each other until they were obscured from view. 

His mother smiled at him cheekily. 

"Nervous, are we now?" 

He smiled bashfully at the floor before the carriage began to move towards the chapel on the hill. 

The three of them stepped into the chapel--which seemed to be chillier than the air outside. His parents took their places in their seats beside Lady Chase, and Percy stood at the altar, waiting for the woman that was to be his wife. 

"The bride and father can step in," the pastor dictated. 

Annabeth, her arm laced with her father, took small, slow steps up to the altar, as if they had rehearsed before. Percy could not take his eyes off her; every step she took mesmerized him. She truly was beautiful, he thought. It surely was too good to be true. 

She joined him at the altar, and the organ music that Percy didn't even realize was playing faded to silence. The pastor looked between the two of them and flipped open his bible. 

"Vows." 

After several attempts, and Percy messing up every single time, the pastor began to grow impatient. 

He sighed, repeating for what seemed like the tenth time. "With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine. Let's try it again, shall we?" 

"Y-yes..." he said sheepishly, holding up his hand. 

"Right," the pastor barked. 

"RIght. Oh, oh." He put his right hand in the air, instead. "Right!" 

From then on, it was a disaster. It seemed everything disagreed with him. The candle put up a fight being lit, some strange man that entered halfway through laughed at him beneath his breath, and he hit his knee roughly on the table. 

"Three steps! Three! Can you not count? Do you not wish to be married, Master Jackson?" 

"No, no!" 

"You do not?" Annabeth asked tentatively. 

"No, its..." he cleared his throat. "I do not _not_ wish to be married. I want very much to...Ow!"

He rubbed his head where he was struck with the pastor's cane. 

"Pay attention! Did you even remember to bring the ring?" 

"Of course I did." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the ring, shiny and golden, before it slipped from his grasp and clattered on the floor. 

The pastor could not contain his frustration as Percy chased it across the floor, disappearing beneath Lady Chase's dress. 

"Aha!" he exclaimed after he grabbed it, now ashamed that he he had not asked her to grab it before reaching beneath her skirt, and he suddenly smelled smoke. 

He peered down to see that he still had the lit candle in his hand, and it had transferred its flame to the dress.

He scrambled to put it out, but was pushed away by Lord Chase, who began to stomp out the flame. It didn't take long until it was successfully out, and Percy was relieved. 

"Enough!" the pastor burst out in his thunderous voice. "This wedding cannot take place until he's properly prepared. Young man, learn your vows." 

Percy felt as if all the eyes in the room were on him, scorning, disappointed, angry. He needed to get some air. 

He backed out of the chapel and went running towards the bridge--where he used to abscond to when he was a child, upset with the world.

Who knew that he would actually want to get married, and that he would mess it all up? That one was a given, he scolded himself. His mother looked so disappointed, and Annabeth... Oh, Annabeth thought he was a fool. This day couldn't possibly get any worse, he thought, until the town crier was advertising it by shouting all throughout the streets. He tucked the ring into his pocket and threw his hands in the air in frustration. He wanted to get away from civilization, so he headed towards the wood, the sky beginning to darken overhead. 

"It's not all that difficult. Why can't I remember a few simple vows? With this hand..." He couldn't even remember what came after. He huffed in frustration and continued to walk into the wood, straining his deepest thoughts to remember. If he could write it down...

He reached up to his jacket pocket to grab the ring, and his fingers brushed the flower Annabeth had placed in his lapel. He took it out and looked at it. It was a simple flower, blue and plentiful. It added a little color to his suit. 

He needed to remember. Not only for himself, his mother, and his father, but for Annabeth. When he remembered her, all the fear and anxiousness faded into the darkness that surrounded him. 

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows." He grinned victoriously. "Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine!" 

He looked above at the dead trees, creating a thin canopy over his head and slightly veiling the stars shining overhead and laughed, happily. At this rate, he could run back to the house and recite them. His mother would be so proud. 

"With this candle, I will light your way in darkness." He grabbed the ring from his pocket. "With this ring, I ask you to be mine!"

He crouched and placed the ring on a twig, protruding out from he ground. It looked similar to a hand, he thought. A very thin hand. Perhaps even as thin as Lady Chase's bony hand. 

He heard the crows cawing at him from overhead, and he thought to get home. It was dark, and his mother was probably worried. As he reached down to retrieve the ring off the twig, he could have sworn he saw it...move. 

He shook his head. What a preposterous thought, he mused. Then, the twig reached out and grabbed his arm.

He gasped in fright, trying to pull his hand away. Its grip was tenacious, and he had to plant a foot behind him to get enough strength to free himself. 

But, the hand, the skeletal hand that he had mistaken for a twig, still held on tightly.

He stumbled back onto the ground in shock, trying to wrestle his arm back from the anomaly, before the ground began to shake beneath him. 

The ground broke loose, and a blue, ghostly figure began to crawl from the newly created hole, clawing its way from its grave.

The corpse now fully stood, his skin blue and his body deathly thin. The smell... Oh, God, the smell was terrible. He wore a white suit, dirtied by the earth he was buried beneath, the long, billowy veil in his dark hair motheaten. He used his remaining hand to remove the veil from his face. His eyes were large, with dark circles beneath them. He held a satisfied smile on his full lips. 

"I do," he said, looking upon him with reverence. 

Percy was in shock, tremulous breaths the only sound he could produce as he crawled backwards, his back finding a cold, flat stone surface. A tombstone. He was in the graveyard part of the woods, wasn't he? He didn't think he'd walked that far. 

He jolted to his feet and began to run. He dodged the trees, his breath ragged, and peered behind him to see if it was following him. And, it was, ghostly blue and white visible through the trees. 

Panic-ridden, he decided to take a shortcut through the thick bushels of twigs that poked and tore at his suit. He managed to free himself and continued to run. He finally emerged from the woods and found himself back on the stone bridge from which he came. The chapel stood proudly against the skyline. The pastor was most likely still there. He looked back at the woods, his breaths ragged, but there was no sign of the corpse. He was gone without a trace, and Percy wondered that if he was just so nerve-wracked that he had begun to hallucinate. 

He turned, sighing in relief, before coming face-to-face with the corpse. 

He backed up, his hands finding purchase on the rim of the bridge. It was closing in on him, its gaze haunting and terrifying. 

"You may kiss the bridegroom," the corpse recited, placing both its hands--it must have collected its other one from the ground before it began to pursue him--on his shoulders and pressing its chest to Percy's. When the corpse's face was mere inches to his, his vision faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so weird because I have to look at this movie in a completely different light, and a bunch of unanswered questions pop up in the process. I answered them, anyway, to make things less confusing. Also, I didn't know who to place in the role of Elder Gutknecht, so I just kept him the same. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Percy woke in a bed that wasn't his own. The sheets and blankets were a rich red, and it was softer than anything he'd ever known. 

He sighed in relief. It was a nightmare. That's all it was. 

He turned to tell Annabeth of the terrible dream that plagued him the night before, only to see the corpse boy instead, smiling at him dreamily as he laid beside him.

"Good morning, love," he greeted, burrowing the side of his head deeper into the pillow.

Percy shot up onto the heels of his hands. 

"Wh--How?" 

"What do you mean?" The corpse asked, mimicking Percy's action.

Percy quickly stood and stumbled back towards the wall. He eyed the door and felt for the doorknob while keeping his sights on the corpse, who simply sat in the bed and stared at him in hurt confusion. As if he deserved to look confused, when Percy woke in a strange place with a dead person. 

He quickly left the room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the door, trying to calm his palpitating heart and ragged breaths. Then, he opened his eyes. He wished he hadn't.

About fifty pairs of dead eyes were gazing back at him, pausing whatever activities they occupied themselves with. He almost felt tempted to reenter the room and take his chances with the one corpse, but the other cadavers didn't give him the opportunity. 

"A new arrival!" exclaimed a man. 

"You're done already?" one woman asked, before her voice lowered to a murmur. "Poor Nico. He got stuck with a minute-man." 

Percy couldn't believe his eyes. 

"Darling? Are you all right?" 

He backed up from the corpse who just emerged from the bedroom. 

"What's--?" 

"By Jove!" a curly-haired corpse, only slightly taller than the one that he presumed brought him to this strange place. "We've got ourselves a breather!"

"Ooh," said one of the women, looking him up and down. "Does he have a dead brother?"

Then, he felt the unpleasant sensation of being poked in the ribs. "He's still soft!"

Percy looked frantically around him, his vision clouded with fear.

"A toast! To the newlyweds!" 

"Didn't last long in the bridal bed," one of the women joked, and another laughed scandalously. 

"N-newlyweds?" Percy asked, not believing his ears. 

The corpse smiled cheerfully and dreamily. "Oh! In the woods, you said your vows so... _perfectly_." 

He wiggled the digits on his skeletal hand, showing off the shiny, golden ring on his finger. 

"I did?" Then, realization washed over him. "I _did_." 

It had to be a nightmare. He turned to the bar and hit his head against the wood. "Wake up!" he yelled at himself. 

The corpse hovered over him concernedly. 

"Love?"

He glanced around at the other terrifying faces. A woman, most likely of Spanish descent, cut exactly and precisely in half; a woman chef with untamable hair; a head, an actual _head_ on a platter; a pirate woman; and a couple of skeletal children, to name a few.

He went crazy. That was it. He must have driven himself mad in the woods somewhere, and he was hallucinating. But the cold hand on his arm felt all too real. 

He tore away from the touch and stumbled back, away from any semblance of a dead person, only for his back to hit the bar.

"What's going on here? Where am I? Who are you?" 

The corpse he "married" held a wistful smile on his face. 

"That's... That's kind of a long story." 

"And what a story it is!" Exclaimed the skeletal corpse with curly hair and a bowler hat. He only had one eye, Percy noticed, as he was pushed back onto a barstool and spun around to face the bar. A glass full of what looked like malt liquor was slid before him from an unknown source.

"Have a pint, my good sir, as I spin a tragic tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul!"

The corpse he had married looked sheepish. "Leo, not this again."

"Fret not, my dear friend. After all he's your husband, and he deserves to know the truth."

"Do you mind if _I_ am the one to tell him? It's my death. It's personal."

Percy inconspicuously slid the mug away from him before a skeleton immediately took it and gulped it down, sending it all to the floor.

"Well, I... I was young and foolish," the corpse began, directing Percy's attention back to him. "A handsome stranger rolled into town, and I fell for him too fast. Father, of course, would never agree to our marriage, but I was in love, or so I thought. We arranged to be married in secret and run away together afterward. I brought some of my wealth, along with the suit I had tailored, to the woods. It was dark and cold, and it was nearly dawn, and he still hadn't shown. I thought he had given up on me, before I saw a figure in the shadows. My soon-to-be husband, I presumed. Then, obscured by darkness, he came up to me. I greeted him, grateful he was there, then without uttering a word he wrapped his hands around my throat. I couldn't breathe or escape. It was so painful, everything went black, but when I opened my eyes..."

"He was dead as dust!" The corpse called Leo interjected. "Heartbroken and missing all his wealth! But, he made a vow that he would wait for his true love to come for him and set him free. He wouldn't budge from that spot, poor boy, no matter how hard we tried. Then, out of the blue comes a young man who sweeps him off his feet and vows forever to be at his side. Cheers to the newlyweds!"

"Cheers to the newlyweds!" Everyone repeated in unison and toasted to the two of them, the corpse bashfully looking at his feet.

"Please take good care of our dear boy," the same woman who criticized him earlier told him.

"If something happens, you can always come to me. I was a marriage counselor in life."

Then, everyone reached to shake his hand. Hand after bony hand passed through his fingers and pressed against his fleshy palm.

Eventually, everyone burst into a spout of drinking, singing, and dancing. He was thrown into it at one point, the corpse spinning into his arms and holding himself to his chest for a brief second. The curly-haired skeleton spun him around, and he threw his head back so fast that his eye flew out of his skull. Percy caught it on instinct before he realized what it was. He gasped and dropped it to the floor in shock, his hands shaking more than they ever had before.

He waited until no one noticed him, and he quickly absconded up the stairs and out the door.

He hid himself for what seemed like hours, hoping that the corpses might have presumed he left and stopped looking for him, but they never did. He could hear the corpses, namely the one he "married", calling out to him, searching in every place they thought he would be.

He bolted when a voice that was near him receded into the distance. He needed to get home. It was all he wanted. He wanted to be safe and warm, tucked up next to a fireplace with Annabeth on his arm.

Annabeth. He almost had forgotten her. She must have been worried. He wondered if anyone was looking for him. His stomach fell when he realized they would never find him, not if he stayed down here.

"Percy! Where are you? Percy?"

He looked over his shoulder to see the ghostly blue figure trailing him, yet not seeing him. He ran to the end of the way, blocked by a tall, stone wall, that was curved slightly.

"Percy? Hello?" came the corpse's voice, in a singsong tone.

He began to climb as fast as he could up the wall, and his arms burned by the time he clutched the iron fence. Then, a bone-like surface. A leg. He grabbed a leg. Just his luck.

"You could have used the stairs, love!" the corpse giggled, before grabbing his arm and helping him onto the flat surface.

From there, he could view the entire town-like settlement that was established. It was very colorful, more colorful than the nearly achromatic, monotonous aboveground, but there was no sky to be seen. All dirt, he assumed, and there was no discernable way out.

"Isn't the view _beautiful_? It takes my breath away!" the corpse said, twirling around so the motheaten veil and the somewhat-skirt of his white suit followed him gracefully. "Well, it would if I had any." He giggled.

Percy took a breath to get accustomed to the smell and come off as polite. He didn't want to offend the corpse in any way.

"Isn't it romantic?" The corpse all but swooned before sitting down elegantly on a stone bench, and patting the empty seat at his side, a silently asking Percy--his husband--to join him.

Percy obeyed his gesture and sat beside him. The corpse leaned over to him and leaned his head on his shoulder. Dark curls spilled over his suit jacket, almost like the churning of a river.

"In all my life, I don't think I've ever felt so happy," the corpse mused, then hummed a contented sigh against his suit jacket.

Percy smiled respectfully as deep brown eyes bored into his own.

"Look," Percy began, placing his hands on the corpse's bony shoulders and turning him to face him. "I'm really sorry for what's happened to you, and I would like to help, but I really, really need to get home--"

"This is your home now," he said with a hopeful smile.

"I..." He needed to take a different approach to this. "I don't even know your name."

He giggled. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Think of those days strolling through the market. You were younger than you are now. A million things to do, but not enough time. A young boy traipsing down the cobblestone ways and stumbling into the path of a horse."

He paused, allowing the memory to flood back into Percy's head.

"I..." Percy furrowed his eyebrow as his brain pursued the answer. He remembered it, but it was so long ago that he couldn't place a name to him. "Can you please not be so cryptic?"

The corpse sighed in disappointment, but looked at him with that bright shine in his eyes, anyway. Although they were dead, they were anything but cold.

"It's Nico."

"Nico," he tested on his tongue. It shot into his head like a musket. The long, brown curls. The feminine stature. Gazing at him from afar while he was on his way home, yet never having an excuse to talk to him. The town in a frenzy when the boy went missing, yet calming down when enough time had passed.

The corpse smiled at him, and, by the look in his eyes, he knew that Percy remembered him, then of one of remembrance, himself.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He reached beneath the bench to grab a box, tied with a blue, satin ribbon.

"It's a wedding present," he whispered playfully, handing it to him.

Percy accepted it hesitantly and shook it, only for the clattering of dry bones to fill his ears. He forced back a grimace.

"Th-thank you," he said, placing the box in his lap, before it began to shake. Startled, Percy released it from his grip, sending the box tumbling to the ground and its contents spilling all over the cobblestones: a large pile of bones, like he expected. 

"Oh!" he exclaimed, when they began to clatter about and assemble. 

They all came together to form a dog, wagging its tail and barking excitedly. It ran in circles a couple of times before picking up something from the ground in its mouth and delivering it onto his lap.

He picked up the object, a dog's collar, and the nametag read--

"Mrs. O'Leary?" Percy said aloud, looking down at the dog, which was wagging her tail at his feet. "Mrs. O'Leary! It's my dog, Mrs. O'Leary!"

Nico laughed in reverence as Percy reunited with his childhood pet. He pet her behind where her ears would have been, like she always liked before she began to run in circles and bark again.

"I knew you'd be happy to see her," Nico said.

"Who's my good girl? Sit! Sit, Mrs. O'Leary, sit!" 

She obeyed, still wagging her skeletal tail. 

"Good girl!" Percy praised. 

She did an array of tricks that Percy had taught her when he was young. After Mrs. O'Leary got fed up with it, she hopped up onto Percy's lips and nuzzled her skull against his arm. 

"Father never approved of her jumping up like this. Then again, he's never approved of much." 

"Do you think he'd approve of me?" Nico asked. 

Percy shrugged. Then, he got an idea. "We can always ask him, right?"

Nico's eyes lit up with excitement and gripped Percy's hands in his own. "I would love to meet your parents!"

Percy was going to go home. "Great! We can go see them right now!"

"Where are they buried?"

Percy gritted his teeth. He hadn't thought of _how_ to get home. "They're... um, not from around here."

"Where are they?"

Percy pointed upwards. 

"Oh, they're still alive." 

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, that is a problem. Maybe..."

"What?" Percy was open to any possibility. 

"No, we can't possibly." Nico contemplated it for a moment before his eyes lit up again. "Actually, maybe we can!"

"What is it?" 

Nico hesitantly looked down at the dog that was hopping up excitedly on his lap before answering, "Elder Gutknecht." 

At the sound of his name, for some unknown reason, Percy's gut was permeated with dread. Nico stood and offered his hand out to him, which Percy accepted out of fear of being impolite. The corpse led him off through areas of the town he hadn't seen when he ran off previously. 

Eventually, they stopped upon a tall, crooked staircase that led to a dark, stone building, which looked dilapidated and abandoned. At the sight of it, he almost wanted to abandon the idea altogether. 

"Is...this the place?"

Nico nodded. "It is."

He looked everything but afraid as he began to lead Percy up the long staircase. No words were exchanged between them until they reached the top of the staircase. A large crow flew over Percy's head and perched upon a lantern, watching the two of them with beady eyes.

Nico composed himself as he gripped the metal knocker on the door. They waited in silence for an answer, and when it was apparent no one was coming to the door, Nico pushed it open. Rats and mice skittered in fright from the sudden movement and Nico entered. 

Percy, taken aback by his brazen actions, followed timidly. 

"Elder Gutknecht?" Nico called. "Are you there? Hello?"

Percy followed Nico into the dark house, with dusty, old books with yellowing pages stacked in tall piles that loomed over him. They made their way through the labyrinth of books before coming upon a candlelit desk.

"Hello? Is anyone home? Hello?"

As if crows had a vendetta for Percy, one flew out from behind a pile of books that obviously hadn't been tended to for a long while. He jolted at the sound, accompanied by its aggravated cawing. A skeletal hand reached to steady the candleholder that the crow almost knocked over in its startled state. 

He was an old man, with a hunched-over back and a long beard trailing from his chin. He coughed and peered down at his two visitors. 

"There you are!" Nico exclaimed. 

"No, my dear boy," he said, endearingly. "There _you_ are."

"I brought my husband, Percy."

Percy was startled by being addressed as his "husband" but he kept silent about the matter.

"What's that? Husband?" Elder Gutknecht adjusted his spectacles as he looked down upon Percy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," he said loudly and deliberately, ensuring the old man could hear him. 

He nodded politely, acknowledging him. 

"We need to go upstairs, to visit the Land of the Living," Nico told him.

"Land of the Living?" Elder Gutknecht left his podium and began to walk down the staircase of books that had accumulated, leaning heavily on his cane. "Why go up there when people are dying to get down here?"

"Please," Percy pleaded. "It would mean so much to me--us." 

"I don't know," the old skeleton said. "It's just not natural." 

" _Please_ , Elder Gutknecht," Nico implored, his eyes soft and pleading. "Surely there must be something you could do." 

The man huffed defeatedly, taking Nico's hand into his own. "Let's see what I can do. Where did I put that book?"

Percy and Nico helped the elderly skeleton search through the endless piles of books, although they weren't quite sure what he was looking for. 

"Oh, there's the one!" Elder Gutknecht announced, lifting the book from the shelf and blowing the dust off of it.

Percy didn't bother wondering how he could do that, seeing his obvious lack of lungs. He was just desperate to get home and leave this nightmare behind.

He climbed his book-staircase once more and placed the heavy book on the podium, sending clouds of dust into the air. He opened to a page. 

"Ah, a Ukrainian haunting spell. Just the thing for these quick trips." 

"I'm so glad you thought of this," Nico whispered to him.

"Me too."

The skeleton gathered his materials and began his work. 

Percy had never seen the process of spellcasting before, so he was imbued with equal amounts of fear and intrigue. Nico gripped his hand beside him, and Percy squeezed it back reassuringly. 

The man lifted the chalice and gulped it down, filling Percy with confusion.

"Now then," he said. "Where were we?"

"The Ukrainian haunting spell?" Nico reminded him. 

"Of course." His arm reached upon one of his bookshelves and grabbed a large crow egg from the nest that had been made there. 

"Here we have it," the skeleton said, holding the egg in his bony palm. "Now, remember, when you want to come back, say, 'Hopscotch.'"

" _Hopscotch_?" Nico asked, amused. 

With a nod of his head, he cracked the egg over the side of his podium and allowed the contents to fall on them. Percy closed his eye, expecting a bird embryo to come flying on his head, but it never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw the starlit sky, the arms of dead trees framing the full moon overhead. It shone down on the two of them in silver rays, touching them with its magnificence. He was home.

Nico hummed as he stared reverently at the moon. Percy didn't recall him ever looking at him like that, and little spikes of jealousy formed in his gut that he couldn't explain away. 

"I've spent so long in the darkness, I'd almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is." 

Percy looked over to him, a blue butterfly fluttering past his ear and towards the moon, entranced by it just as if it were its salvation.

Nico sighed contentedly and began to dance. While it would have been strange if anyone else Percy knew had suddenly began to stride around, inspired by the light of the moon, the manner in which Nico did it seemed...ethereal. 

He strode with unmatched grace, his veil and suit flowing along behind him. Percy couldn't take his eyes off him. 

Nico noticed his staring and smiled calmly, trailing his hands over Percy's shoulders from behind him. Percy turned his head, caught in the beauty of the man before him. 

And, suddenly, guilt strongly made its presence known in his stomach. He knew Nico did nothing to warrant his deception. He was in love with him, and it was the last thing Percy wanted to do to add another verse in the tale of Nico's tragic fate. But, he was a corpse. And he was alive, so the notion of their union was a conflict of interest. 

That, and his parents and Annabeth must have been worried sick about him. 

As much as it pained him, he had to do it. Maybe after a couple of hours, Nico would get the hint and disappear back beneath the earth and wait for another man to come for him, as sad as that sounded. He came this far with a clear conscience, he couldn't turn back now. He was past the point of no return. 

Nico continued to dance around him, as beautiful as ever. Percy reminded himself of what needed to be done. He placed his hands on Nico's shoulders to still him. 

"I think... I need to inform my parents about the big news," Percy lied, settling Nico down on a splintery log. "So, you wait here. I'll be right back. No peeking!"

Percy heard Nico giggle as he turned to leave, pushing the guilt down. He looked back upon his blue form once more before sighing and taking off. The snow beneath his feet crunched as he ran off in the direction of the Chase estate, the bitter cold chilling his bones.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time he arrived at the Chase household, his hands were cold and he could see his breath, manifesting as mist in the chilly night air. The windows were still lit, to his relief. He composed himself, straightening his suit that was wrinkled from all the running, brushing down any rebellious hairs, and kicked the layer of powdery snow from his shoes before reaching to knock on the door. 

"We should have known better than that Jackson boy," Lady Chase said from the other side of the door. "When I see him, I'm going to strangle him." 

"You can't, dear," Lord Chase told her. "He's too... wily. You might have to use a rope."

Percy heard the heavy clank of the bolt of the door locking. By what he had overheard, knocking on the door was a guaranteed death sentence. It was enough to send a shiver down his spine, although the cold was enough for that, alone. Anxious, he decided to look for another way in. After all, he just needed to see Annabeth, and he would do practically anything, except face her parents, to accomplish that goal. 

After their reunion, he would run home to his parents and explain everything. Then, he would lock himself in his room and wait for Nico to tire of waiting for his return. It was only a matter of time.

His guilt appeared in his chest again, almost feeling as if it were stabbing him viciously. He closed his eyes and sighed, looking back towards the dark shadows of the forest, in which the corpse was still patiently and dutifully waiting, sitting on the splintered tree trunk, probably gazing longingly up at the full moon. 

It wasn't Nico's fault that he was dead; he seemed to be a lovely, captivating person, but the undeniable truth was ever-present: he was dead, and Annabeth was alive. It was against nature for them to be together, even if Percy was interested in him. 

He walked around the house and eyed a balcony that led to a window, the supporting pillars covered in thick vines. He grinned to himself--a suitable entrance.

He thought of calling up to her to inform her of his return, but he didn't want to call any unwanted attention to him, especially since her parents had recently threatened to strangle him. Instead, he decided to emulate what he had done earlier: he began to climb. With the bitter cold of the stone biting into his fingers and the increasing burning sensations in his arms, he found the task extremely difficult, but he closed his eyes and reminded himself. He was going to see Annabeth. The nightmare was over, now. He was safe. The thought was enough to motivate him.

After what seemed to be an eternity, at last he had reached the top of the balcony. He swung his leg over the cold stone and temporarily lost his balance. Fear quickly spread through him as he almost fell over the edge. He gripped the edge tightly and remained as still as a statue before his balance was restored. When he could safely lower himself onto the stone floor of the balcony, he did so quietly. Calming his breaths, he straightened his suit and smoothed down his disheveled hair once more before peering through the window. He could see the back of Annabeth's head as she sat in one of the plush chairs, busying herself with a book. The room was generously lit by the lambency from the hearth, the light shining gently upon her. Her blonde bun sat proudly on her head, rising just above the back of her dull pink chair, and he sighed in relief before knocking persistently on the window. 

She turned her head to the source of the noise, and Percy could see her delicate features, her flawless skin. Her stormy grey eyes lit up with surprise as she saw him through the glass, and she quickly rushed to the window to let him in. 

"Percy!" she greeted. "I'm so happy to see you, but where have you been?" 

She sounded somewhat stern, but it was unlike her mother's coldness. It was more doting and caring. 

"I--" he began, but he didn't know where to. 

She gasped suddenly as she felt his skin. "You're as cold as death. And your coat is torn." 

She gripped his chilled hand and brought him toward the cozy fireplace, where he rubbed his hands together to spread the warmth back through his bones. 

"Here, come by the fire. You must be freezing. What happened to you?"

Percy sat up from his slumped posture in the plush chair. Annabeth's features were illuminated by the golden light of the fire, complementing them kindly. She was beautiful, and he was safe. 

"Annabeth..." He paused, knowing that she would deem him crazy from all that had transpired. Instead, he allowed his mouth to say what his heart intended. "This morning, I was terrified of marriage. Then, upon meeting you, I felt... that I should be with you always..." 

Annabeth's eyes gained a pleasant light to them from his words. A smile erupted on his lips. 

"And that our wedding can't come soon enough." 

She smiled, her eyes softening as she gazed into his. She gripped his chilled hands in her own, the smile not falling from her face. 

"Percy, I feel the same." 

She drew nearer, and Percy felt that he was, too. It was like some invisible force developed in between them, impermeable and powerful. 

He felt her breath on his cheeks and opened his eyes. 

Apparently, as pleasant as it felt, it was fragile. 

He saw ghostly blue limbs crawling up on the balcony like a gothic horror novel. It was going all wrong. He gasped in fright, bringing Annabeth's attention towards him. She began to look over her shoulder, but Percy held her cheek. 

"Annabeth, I must explain. I... seem to already find myself married, and I know it is unexpected--" 

He was interrupted by the window opening, the curtains billowing, appearing ghostly from the moonlight, and the fire extinguishing as the figure emerged from the cold.

The two of them shot up from out of their seats, watching with horror their intruder. 

"Percy, I'm sorry for my impatience, but I just wanted to meet--" He flipped his veil over his head so he could look into the room, but was taken aback by the sight before him. 

He gasped, as if it were surprising to see a living girl in the room, as if she were the most uncommon anomaly he'd ever experienced. 

Annabeth gasped in turn--rightfully so, in Percy's opinion. 

Nico's eyes hardened, and Percy swallowed in fear. 

"Percy, darling," Nico addressed him, gripping his arm as if to claim him as his property, "who's this?" 

"Who's he?" Annabeth asked, an equal amount of shock in her eyes. 

" _I'm_ his husband," Nico said pointedly, annoyed that she was speaking as if he wasn't there, standing the room before her, as he put out his hand for her to see. 

The moonlight caught the shine of the golden ring on his bony finger--a ring that was to belong to Annabeth the next morning.

She took one glance at it and hurt and confusion permeated her gut. "Percy?"

"No, wait, Annabeth, you don't understand," Percy began, attempting to redeem himself. He took his "husband's" wrist in his hand and shook it, allowing the sound of his bones rattling to travel through the dark room. "He's dead. Look." 

Nico glared at him with pain and anger in his gaze and snatched his hand away from his husband's grip. 

He stood before the window, the shadows catching his dark expression. He said with a quiet, malicious tone, "HOPSCOTCH." 

He grabbed his husband and dragged him to the window. He tried to escape, Annabeth reaching after him to bring him back to her, but his fingers escaped her grasp. 

"Annabeth!" Percy yelled, just before they were consumed by black crow's feathers and darkness. 

The new scene of Elder Gutknecht's house appeared before them, and Percy barely had time to recover his balance and reorient himself before being shoved back towards a pile of old books. The frantic cawing of frightened crows filled his ears as he tried to stop himself from tumbling over. 

"You _lied_ to me!" Nico cried, his eyes filled with despair. "Just to get back to that _other_ woman!"

Percy took a brief moment to assess his surroundings before brushing the dust off his coat. 

"Don't you understand? _You're_ the other woman... um, man. Thing." 

"No!" Nico shouted, sending crows retreating from their perches on the books around him. He held his blue hands to his chest, as if it couldn't contain the pain he was feeling and was about to burst. "You're married to _me! She's_ the other woman!"

He turned his back to him and began to sob into his hands. Percy reached out a hand to comfort him, regret coursing through his body.

"He's right," Elder Gutknecht contributed, but Percy ignored him in favor of the devastated corpse standing before him. 

"And I thought..." Nico sniffled. "I thought this was all going so well! I was so happy." 

He sobbed even harder, and Percy debated whether if his gestures were welcome, or if he needed to give him space. He felt terrible, but it was the sad truth. He wasn't in love with him. He was dead. 

He jolted in shock from the eye that suddenly rolled across the floor, bouncing off a stray book and hitting his shoe. Percy sighed, bending over to retrieve the eye. He wiped it off on his jacket to rid it of the dust and dirt that accumulated on it. While it felt disgusting, it went mostly unnoticed. 

"I'm sorry, but this just can't work," he told him, offering his eye back to him. 

"Why not?" Nico asked, his voice still heavy from his tears. He took the eye back from him and looked down at it despondently. "It's my eye, isn't it?"

"No, no, it's not that," Percy said, as he watched the corpse turned to discreetly replace his eye in his socket. "Your eye is lovely. But, consider the circumstances. We're just too different. Nico, you're _dead_." 

He pouted slightly. "You should have considered that before you asked me to marry you." 

"Why don't you understand? It was a mistake! I would never marry you!" Percy shot back, before realizing the weight of his words. 

He saw Nico's eyes tear up again as he gasped, and Percy could feel the hurt effusing from him. 

"Wait, Nico, I didn't mean it like that..." Percy reached out to him, but Nico buried his face in his hands and ran off, recklessly knocking over another pile of books in his sorrow. 

He watched him go, not bothering to pursue him. 

"I didn't mean it like that," he said quietly, almost to himself. 

He knew the nature of his actions. He was selfish. He did everything with only his self-interests in mind, and when his conscience tried to step in to have him consider his feelings, he dismissed it, as if nothing mattered except him getting back to the woman he loved. 

But, did he truly _love_ her? After all, he'd only known her for a day, as well as he knew Nico, perhaps even less. However, while she was thrilling to be around, did it really make him want to become _that_? A man who was willing to discount the feelings of people who genuinely cared about him without a thought?

Nico was most likely bawling his eyes out, and he had every right to. Percy had falsely led him along, and he planned to abandon him, to boot, leaving him alone in the woods to wait for someone who would never come back.

In that aspect, was he just as bad as the man who killed him? 

He shook away the stipulations, only to feel the contumelious gaze of the elderly skeleton from upon his pedestal-of-sorts. He could only feel shame and guilt. 

"Just who are you trying to convince?" the old man asked, malice in his words. "You knew your intentions. You dug your grave. Now, you must lie in it." 

With the uneasy crackling of his bones as he strode down from his altar, Elder Gutknecht disappeared into the numerous stacks of books, leaving Percy alone with his guilt.


	4. Chapter 4

Percy sighed as he finally found his way back to the place he first woke up in. He was tired; there had been too much running around and emotional strain for this time of night, and he was hoping to get some rest. While the bed may have been Nico's--did dead people even get sleep?--it was better than someone else's.

The air seemed colder below ground than it had been before, and he couldn't wait to nestle underneath all the warm blankets the bed had to offer. The house was dark and empty, without a soul, living or dead, frequenting it. It was the quietest place he had been since he arrived, without a sign of liveliness or enjoyable debauchery. 

He sighed as he headed for the bedroom. It didn't hurt to have a little peace, considering all that had transpired over the last hour. He landed harder on the bed than he should've, but his frustration was almost palpable. 

Elder Gutknecht's voice seemed to echo in the darkness around him. 

_"You knew your intentions. You dug your grave. Now, you must lie in it."_

He pulled the blanket to his shoulders, and he wished his feeling of guilt would either let up or disappear completely. In fact, he wished he couldn't feel it, at all. 

He closed his eyes to let his exhaustion overtake him, but his overactive mind wouldn't allow it. 

If he knew it would have hurt him that much, he would have been more honest with him. He was a corpse, how was he supposed to know he still felt emotions as strongly as he? 

He sighed once more, giving up the very idea of sleep. It was obvious now that it wasn't coming to him, no matter how worn he was. 

Instead, he stared at the ceiling through the dark, allowing his thoughts to run their course. How scared Annabeth looked, how beautiful she looked in the firelight. How beautiful Nico looked, illuminated by silvery light, dancing through the moonbeams, how the light caught his bluish skin and gave it a glow that made him look almost like an angel, coming to save him from his own sinful flesh. His hair, veil, and the back of his coat flowing gracefully behind him as he turned. The look in his warm, brown eyes as he strode around Percy, as Percy held onto his shoulders to slow him to a stop. 

His thoughtfulness, his kindness, his vivacity. 

When he was in the room, everyone seemed muted or dull in comparison.

Percy brought the heels of his hands to his eyes. His psyche was really brought to this: the corpse was beautiful. 

And he broke his heart. 

Suddenly, golden light shone through the crack beneath the door, and he slowly brought himself out of bed. 

He opened the door to see Mrs. O'Leary, standing there with a blue bouquet in her mouth, wagging her tail excitedly. He knew what she was trying to tell him as she laid the bouquet down at his feet. As he stooped over to pick it up, he heard soft piano notes resonating throughout the room. He followed the sad, solemn notes, knowing the person playing them was plagued with despair, and it was all his doing. 

He followed the music around the corner and down a staircase, where he saw the long, dark curls, his motheaten veil, the flowy back of his coat, his hand pressing the keys that produced the sorrowful notes.

He didn't know he could play piano, but then again, there wasn't much he knew about him. 

He slowly made his way over to the man, playing a morose melody and filtering his sadness into the air. It was enough for his guilt to flare up again, even more powerfully than before. He held the bouquet in his hands and began to speak up.

"I... I think you dropped this." He held it out to offer it to him, but his eyes remained on the piano. He got the hint, knowing that the corpse wanted him to leave and never return. He set the bouquet down on the piano and turned to grant Nico's wish, but his conscience didn't let him. For the first time since he arrived there, he didn't want to leave.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying about wanting you to meet my parents. And I'm sorry for everything I said to you. Ever since I met you, you've been nothing but kind and generous to me, and I've been nothing but cruel and deceitful." 

Nico continued to ignore him, pretending as if he wasn't there. If he were in his shoes, Percy knew he would feel the same. 

Nico played beautiful, if not despaired notes that filled the silence in between them, and Percy raised his hands to the piano. 

He played happy, high notes in response to Nico's deep, sad ones. Nico cast a glare over at him as he attempted to steal the mood back. 

But, Percy wouldn't let him. He at least got his attention. He played his high happy ones, looking over at Nico to see if he earned a response.

Nico played in turn, his minor key devouring the happiness that Percy was trying to create. He then took his hands from the keys and turned away from the other man, resting his cheek on his hand. 

Percy sighed, then began to play again. High-pitched, light-spirited, major key. His fingers danced over the key as they continued to create a melody. He paused, raising his eyebrows to see if Nico was receptive, then, when he received no response, decided he would try harder. He continued to play, allegro, lively, his eyes not leaving the corpse beside him. 

As he started a bridge to allow Nico to join, the corpse turned and surrendered to Percy's efforts. The music they created together was beautiful--like two ingredients combining to create the most delicious sound they'd ever heard. Nico's dexterous mid-to-low notes intermingled with Percy's quick high-notes. Percy looked over at Nico to see the small, smile on his lips, his eyes filled with that warm feeling that Percy had missed. 

Then, Nico's face changed to one of surprise; as he reached to create an arpeggio, his hand detached and began to dance around on his own, crawling upon Percy's arm. While he would have screamed and jolted away before, he simply reached for the hand, which was now on his shoulder and offered it to the man beside him. 

He giggled. "Pardon my enthusiasm." 

Percy only returned a warm smile. "I like your enthusiasm." 

Nico offered his arm to him, and Percy reattached his hand. Nico's smile widened, and Percy looked down to see his hand in his, tingles sending up his fingers. He glanced back up into Nico's eyes, which looked at him with the same reverence they had before. 

The pull in his gut was there again. The invisible force that had pulled him to Annabeth had manifested between the two of them, and he found himself leaning closer. 

The door suddenly slammed open, nearly sending him flying to his feet, as the others came in through the door, accompanied by the shout of "New arrival!" 

The two looked over their shoulders at the party that had begun at the blink of an eye. Nico smiled widely as foamy beer was poured and served, glasses and bones clashing. 

Then, Percy could see a familiar figure within the crowd. 

"Chiron?" he asked, on his feet and shoving through the crowd. The closeness of him confirmed his suspicions, and he was filled with joy. "Chiron! It's so nice to see you--" 

Chiron turned to face him, and he saw the blue tinge to his skin. He gasped in shock. 

"I am so sorry." 

"No," Chiron waved it off. "Actually, I feel great." He stretched his formerly arthritic joints and picked up a mug of beer that was slid towards him on the bar. 

"How is everyone?" 

"Well, everyone's wondering where you slipped off to, and Miss Annabeth--" 

"Yes? How is she?" 

"Well, she's getting married, this evening." 

"What?" Percy couldn't contain his shock, or his hurt. "Married to who?"

"Oh, I don't know. Lord somebody-or-other." 

"But, that's impossible." 

"I don't know. I guess they didn't want to waste the cake." 

"How could she?" Percy slouched over, plopping down on a barstool as he gazed at the floor. 

He thought she... loved him. After the moment they shared in her chambers, he thought they were... He didn't know where to place his thoughts. 

The clamor of everyone around him invaded his space, and he stood, wanting to be anywhere but there. 

"Percy?" Nico asked as he walked by. "Where are you going?"

He didn't entertain him with an answer. He needed to be alone for a while. 

Percy climbed the stairs and plopped down on the bed once again, holding the flower Annabeth had given him in his fingers. The frail petals fell from the bloom and onto the floor, where Mrs. O'Leary was sitting. He reached down and gave her a pet. 

"I'm too late." Of course he was. He was right in the beginning, when he thought it was too good to be true. Annabeth was moving onto bigger and better things. A lord, just as she deserved. A man with status to offer her more than he ever could. 

He sat there for a while, lost in his thoughts and Mrs. O'Leary climbing up on him and nuzzling him. He dropped the flower onto the floor and patted the dog on her head before he stood. If Annabeth was moving on, why couldn't he? 

He returned to the party, where everyone was still drinking and conversing, but the blue beauty was nowhere to be seen. 

He approached Leo, who was laughing with the head on the platter. 

"Where did Nico go?" 

Leo gave him a cold gaze before pointing at a door. He assumed everyone still had a poor opinion of him after everything that had happened. He didn't blame them. 

He followed Leo's directions before he heard Nico's voice echoing throughout the dark chasms of the building. He cracked open a door and saw the man he was looking for, pacing the room. 

"Then, he left without a word. Are all men like this? Am I like this?" Nico asked. 

Two other ladies, one that Percy had seen before with wild hair, busied themselves at his side as he sighed. 

"I'm afraid some of them aren't very bright," the girl answered, continuing her dish. What she was cooking, Percy didn't want to find out. "They get things stuck in their heads, and you can't do a thing with them." 

Nico sighed. "But, did I do something wrong?" 

"You don't have to do anything wrong."

"Is it... Well... She's alive. I'm not. I never stood a chance in the first place. I know the only thing that is keeping him here is his guilt, and now... Now that I am... I don't want him to go." 

Percy understood he shouldn't have been eavesdropping, and decided to turn away, until the door opened and someone else walked in and interrupted their conversation.

"Nico, my dear, we have to talk," Elder Gutknecht joined the ladies and Nico in the room, holding a large tome. Leo followed closely behind him. 

The ladies acknowledged their need for privacy, quickly packing up their creation and leaving them. 

Leo snickered. "Let me tell him." 

Nico ignored him and turned to the elderly skeleton. "What is it?" 

"There seems to be a complication with your marriage." 

"I don't understand." 

"Well, your vows are binding only until death do you part." 

"What are you saying?" 

"Death has already parted you." 

Percy's eyes widened. 

Nico gasped. "If he finds out, he'll leave. There must be something you can do!" 

"Well, there is... one way." 

"Let me tell him!" Leo repeated. 

"It requires the ultimate sacrifice..." 

"Come on, get to the good part." 

"What is it?" Nico asked, turning to the lively skeleton.

"We have to kill him!" he said, tapping his fingers together. 

"What?" 

Percy gasped, but quickly covered it with his hand. He looked back into the room, and, fortunately, none of them had heard him. 

"Percy would have to give up the life he had forever. He would have to repeat his vows in the Land of the Living, and drink from the wine of ages." 

Nico pressed his fingers to his lips. "Poison." 

"This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you."

Percy felt a shiver erupt down his spine. He needed to die? If he was never truly married to Nico in the first place, he was always free to leave. But, Nico... 

He never would have been able to get to know the beautiful person that was Nico di Angelo. He never would have danced with him in the woods or played piano with him. 

Was being married to him so bad? He didn't mind the idea of spending the rest of his days playing piano, dancing, just being near him. He wanted to make him laugh, to draw with him and perhaps lie around all day doing nothing but being in his company. That, he didn't mind at all. 

Nico buried his face in his hands and collapsed on a chair. "I could never ask him." 

Percy pushed all his fear down and entered the room. "You don't have to."

Nico removed his hands to look up at Percy, tears brimming his eyes. His face was in shock, not only to Percy's surprise entrance but to his words. 

Percy looked straight ahead at Elder Gutknecht, a determined look in his eyes. "I'll do it." 

"My boy, if you so choose this path, you may never return to the world up above. Do you understand?" 

He looked down at Nico, whose beautiful brown eyes held wonder, and he never understood anything more. He offered his hand to Nico, who accepted it with the happiest smile he had ever given him--the look of reverence as strong as the one he gave when he looked up at the moon--and lifted him into his arms. Nico placed his head against his chest and looked up into his eyes.

"I do," Percy said, and Nico gave him a smile that eliminated every semblance of fear that existed within him. 

He was going to become his husband, not by accident, but by choice and privilege, and he had never felt more sure of anything in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Spooktober series! If you'd like to request a pairing/prompt, comment down below and I'll try to get to it in a timely fashion. Thanks for reading!! 👻👻


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